Emperor of the Universe Lyrics – BabyTron
Singer: BabyTron
Title: Emperor of the Universe
(King of the whole galaxy)
(It’s only one, one of one)
(When I’m gone, there’s none to none)
Double R the Wraith (Skrrt-skrrt), peekin’ out the blinds (Yeah)
Heard the opps hit from the back though
Shit, boy, I’m creepin’ out the side (On God)
I’m a boss, you a worker (Phew)
Like, why in the f#ck is you speakin’ outta line? (Phew)
Can’t leave without it boy, I need it on my side (Phew)
Feelin’ kinda evil, it’s a demon when I ride (Phew)
Spent twelve in the BAPE store (Pfft)
You that one guy the hoes used to rate low
You that one guy that blew it, now his pape’ low
Let a b#tch ask for somethin’, I’ma say, “No” (Nope)
Let ’em try and pass the ‘Wood, I’ma say “Nah” (Nah)
You ain’t never seen the Drac’ with the ACOG
Lamb’ chops with the zips, f#ck the steak sauce
Seen a body, got to runnin’ home like his baseball (Phew-phew)
b#tch, if you ain’t independent, stay yo’ #ss at home
Aki slide down blowin’ fully switches like they saxophones (Brrt)
Talk a body missin’, wait until they find a bag of bones
Had to go and hire thirty workers, just to stash the lo’
(Brrt, damn)
(Shit, f#ck, look, yeah)
(ShittyBoyz, Dog sh#t Militia, you know what the f#ck goin’ on)
(Walk in, walk in)
Walk into the spot and run it like I’m Chris Breezy (Brrt)
Sweater by the Gallery, I think the kicks Yeezy (Yeezy)
Talk about some Johnny Dang, why yo’ kid cheesy? (Why?)
In the store I’m Johnny Cage with this punchin’, sh#t easy (Punch, punch, punch), ha
Sittin’ sideways, I can get it five ways (Pfft, ha)
Lil’ brodie found out crime pays, he raised the crime rate
Why the f#ck he nickel dime and actin’ like he buy weight? (Why?)
Why the f#ck the big body can’t fit up in the driveway? (Skrrt, driveway)
(Damn, Trgc made that?)
She eat me up like it’s Benihana (Brrt)
Walkin’ out, kicks say Balenciagi’
Hell kitty, it do one-fifty, this is not a Honda
I got the sauce, I got cheese, this is not lasagna
Hope they don’t see me in public, got balaclava
Hope they don’t bug me in public, I got blicky (Bah-bah)
Big clip, Curtis Jack, got fifty (Bah-bah)
Inner state, seen cops got shifty (Skrrt-skrrt)
Sippin’ on some Wock’ lil’ b#tch, this not big Bs, yeah (Phew, yeah)
Had to go and take the mask off (Grrah)
Lil’ cuddy, he don’t rap, he just sittin’ in the trap (Yeah), he just tryna go and get the bag off (Yeah, get it off)
Tryna get where I’m at? (Yeah) First, you gotta go and stack (Yeah), then you gotta go and work your #ss off
Do the dash in the Trackhawk
Spin out, burn out, then I’m finna go and stab off (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Finna tax dawg, like, “f#ck a half off”
(Yeah)
Sorry, Ms. Jackson (I’m sorry)
Nah, I ain’t sorry, I’ll scam your #ss again (Again)
I’m just rappin’ while I’m thinking, I don’t even have a pen
Made a hunnid ten times, used to couldn’t stack a ten, it’s alright though (Sheesh)
Called a choppa RDB, boy, it’ll dropkick you (f#ck)
If you ain’t SBDSN, then I am not with you (Nope)
Big pits, Saint Bernard, boy, this is not sh#ts (Brr)
Couldn’t take a step in my shoes, boy, they do not fit you (Phew, huh)
Ride around, AMG (Huh)
Ride around, ‘K on me (Huh, phew)
Ride around turnt, I just pour, quaking up in a Faygo cream (Hurt)
You ain’t ride around nowhere (Nah)
You ain’t ridin’ nowhere with the tank on E (At all)
Blue check, walkin’ out the bank on fleek
Quarter ticket in a month, did it take four weeks? (Brrt)
(I’m just freestylin’, b#tch)
Chillin’, I got Wocky’ up in my body
Chillin’ with Aki, he ridin’ with Tommy (Shh)
I hop off the jet then I hop in the Masi’ (Skrrt)
All that killer talk, b#tch, you never dropped a body
I don’t wrestle sh#t, I ain’t Scotty 2 Hotty
Try and box us, you gon’ get boxed up (Brrt)
Been on go since the jump, I ain’t never stopped once, nah (Brrt, phew)
Once you pull some dirt, you stick with it forever
Brodie on parole, don’t give a f#ck, he clutchin’ it on tents (Ever)
See an opp at church, don’t give a f#ck, we stumpin’ him wherever
Askin’ ’bout the rap game? Gon’ run this sh#t forever
I feel invincible (Like Superman)
Oh, we do too, we turnt his #ss invisible (To a ghost)
They can’t f#ck with me, I put it on the biblical (On The Bible)
I could teach you sumn’, f#ck it, I’m the principal
The Backwoods original, the weed, it’s exotic (Brrt)
Sleepin’ and I’m slobbin’ off the lean, b#tch, I’m noddin’
2017, was stuffin’ cheese in my Robin’s (Yeah)
Thirty-three percent THC, breathin’ toxins (Phew)
Who you think you stoppin’? (Phew)
Tie him up and hold him hostage (Ah)
Catch him walkin’ out, I peek right through the scope and drop it (Boom)
The way you treat yo’ family, would’ve thought yo’ bro’s adopted
Goin’ shoppin’, spent two thousand on a lil’ pole to pop it, haha (Pop)
If the play good (Phew)
Shit, the day good (Phew)
f#ck a pre-roll, I only face eighth ‘Woods (Phew)
Shit, I’m high as hell, still gon’ roll another one (Roll it up)
Talkin’ ’bout you got the hoes, you with the runner ones
R.I.P. Virgil (Phew)
I just had Off-White on last night (Man, what happened?)
Jeans purple (Phew), thirty-five bans stuff, got the pants tight (God damn)
Steve Urkel (Yeah), two strands, doubled up, got a half pipe (Phew-phew)
Heard he down bad, that’s a sad life
Tell the b#tch, “Act nice,” she can get some Act’ right, yeah
Drop the top (It’s nice as hell out)
If you askin’ ’bout the price, you gotta shop (You gotta buy sumn’)
Yeah, I got some Wocky’, sh#t, who got a pop? (Who got it?)
Tell my shooter, “Hit him in his top,” he gotta drop (He got it)
Shit, we got a opp (Got it)
I’m a gorilla (Woo)
The sticks vanilla (Grrt)
Slidin’ round in foreigns, cost three hunnid just to fill ’em
I pull up, hit the b#tch, I get to ballin’ like I’m Billins (Splash, b#tch)
Talkin’ all that false sh#t, I don’t feel ’em (I don’t feel ’em)
Out in Cali’, up in Compton where it ain’t safe (Yeah)
Bosses wake up and get to it, only lames hate (Squares)
I could do this everyday, this not the same pape’ (Nope)
You better walk back to that porches, we don’t play safe
(Phew)
Stop claimin’ you real if you be backstabbin’ (Man)
I was full time rappin’, now I’m back actin’ (For real)
Why you cappin’ ’bout the past? sh#t, yo’ mans have
This is not no [cou-gee?], it’s some Gucci, check the damn fabric
Kills on my feet, b#tch, they bleedin’
Slidin’, if I ain’t drop sumn’, I ain’t see it (Brrah)
Where the Wocky’? Where the quaky? b#tch, I’m fiendin’ (Lean)
b#tch, I’m fresher than a man that came in Neiman’s
b#tch, I’m star player every game, every season (b#tch, swish)
Habibi Molotov, this sh#t don’t need a reason
Hutch chains got me freezin’, I’m in Neiman’s
It’s only one king of this b#tch, you better beat it (Better beat it)
You better scram
Big ShittyBoyz, big Dog sh#t Militia
King of the muhf#ckin’ galaxy (On the gang)
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Lyrics BabyTron – Emperor of the Universe
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